


Now I'm No Hero, That's Understood

by lls_mutant



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Outing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the heat of the moment, Burt made a mistake- the kind that can ruin a life.  And even though there was no real way to fix it, he was certainly going to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I'm No Hero, That's Understood

_FAG._

The word was emblazoned across the front of the shop in black spray paint, the F larger than the G. Burt stood in the grim morning light, staring at it for a long time. Then he kicked a stone hard, pulled out his keys, and stormed into the garage to get the cleaner.

He was still scrubbing an hour later when Finn came by. "Whoa."

"Kurt with you?" Burt asked, not turning around.

"No. He said he wouldn't be over till after lunch."

Burt relaxed a bit. "Good. Grab a bucket and a brush and help me, will you? This stuff doesn't come off easy."

Finn disappeared into the shot and came back a moment later, wearing his coveralls. He started on the G, and Burt finally finished the F and started in on the A.

"Did you call the cops?" Finn asked.

"Nah. Doesn't do any good," Burt said with a sigh. "They just tell me that they can't find the creeps who did it."

"Wait- this has happened before?"

Burt fixed Finn with a level stare. "You know it has."

Finn flushed. "Yeah, I know, I mean…" he focused on the scrubbing. "But I mean…." He drifted off lamely. "I guess I do know."

"Yeah." Burt put the scrub brush in the bucket for a moment while he stretched his back. "I know that Kurt saw that editorial Monday."

"The one about how you having a gay son means that he's going to influence the way you vote and you're not gonna vote against military actions and veterans' benefits?"

"Yeah. That one." It had said a lot more, too, but Finn had only repeated the least hurtful parts. What Burt hated was that that editorial had been couched in phrases that were fit to print, like _bad example for our children_ and _favoring special-interest groups_ and _unAmerican._ So the language was all rated PG, but the hate behind the sentiments had been dripping off the page, just as bad as three letters crudely spray painted on a wall.. "Kurt say anything about it?"

"Not to me," Finn said. "He might have to Blaine."

Yeah, Kurt would talk to Blaine about it, if he talked to anyone. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Kurt. "Well, if he does say anything, let me know, will you? And for that matter, if someone says something to you that bothers you, you let me know that, too."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks." Finn smiled, but he didn't volunteer anything. Burt could tell he was bothered by it, though. But you couldn't push kids- they had to open up to you when they were ready. Burt knew that better than anyone else.

***

Carole needed the car on Tuesday and Burt needed the truck, so he picked the boys up after school. As soon as Burt pulled up and saw Finn waiting for him, he knew something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked when he saw Finn's stricken face.

"Santana," Kurt said, like that should explain everything. He opened the door, and tossed his own things in, and then when Finn didn't move, took Finn's bag and put it in. "You sit up front," Kurt ordered. "That way I don't have to listen to you complain about leg room." Finn obeyed.

"What the hell happened?" Burt repeated once the boys were in. "And don't just say 'Santana' this time. Is she sick or something?"

"Sick is one way to describe it," Kurt said acridly. "She told Finn that he was a small-brained simian who couldn't manage to make fire with a lighter and a barrel of newspaper. And that was the _nicest_ thing she said."

Burt cringed. "Ouch."

Finn slumped in his seat. "Yeah. I know I shouldn't let her get to me, but the stuff she says…."

"She is vicious," Kurt agreed. "But she is that way to everyone. She said I looked like Jimmy Fallon's butch lesbian daughter, she called Rachel a Willow reject, and even Mike-"

"Yeah, I know," Finn said with a sigh. "Unless you're Brittany, she's just nasty. But it still sucks."

"What's so special about Brittany?" Burt asked, checking the rear view mirror and pulling out into traffic.

"They're… are they girlfriends?" Finn asked, looking over at Kurt.

"You think I know?" Kurt asked irritably. "Ever since Mercedes left New Directions, my best source of gossip is gone. But the fact that Brittany actually followed Santana to the Troubletones makes me think that yes, they are."

"Or at least sleeping together," Finn mused.

"They've been doing _that_ for two years, if Brittany is to be believed."

"Yeah, but dude. _Brittany._ "

"Right."

They continued discussing the girls, but Burt half-tuned them out to focus on driving. Finn sounded a little bit better, at any rate. Kind of surprised him about Santana, because if he remembered right, he was pretty sure Puck and maybe even Finn had dated her, but he supposed not every kid figured these things out as young as Kurt did. She was a cheerleader, too, if Burt remembered right. Funny how the world worked. He wondered if any of the cheerleaders _he'd_ known in high school had turned out to be lesbians.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Finn looked a lot better. He'd cheered up and he and Kurt were arguing about songs for glee club or something. At least it wasn't a major crisis or anything- Burt figured they were lucky for that.

***

The studio lights were bright and hot, but Burt had gotten over his fear that he'd sweat off the makeup they'd put on him. There was a mike attached to his shirt collar and a glass of water on the table in front of him, and both were forgotten. Because none of that changed the fact that Sue Sylvester was sitting across from him, taking this discussion to the one place she should know not to go.

"So your support of the arts isn't about what it can do for kids, but what it can do for _gay_ kids," Sue was saying, leaning across the table. "How is that not benefiting only a minority of the students?"

"That is not what I said," Burt insisted. "Look, I've got two sons. One's as queer as a three dollar bill, the other is straight enough to measure walls. And both of them- not just one- _both of them_ have been helped by that glee club. It's given them structure, it's given them a creative outlet, it's given them-"

"And what are those kids going to do with their lives, Burt? Are they going to be singers? Performers? Or are they going to be there in that tire shop with you? Because I'm betting a-singing and a-dancing like the Small World dolls isn't exactly something you spend a lot of time doing when you're fixing cars and changing tires."

"Well, how many of your kids go on to be professional cheerleaders?" Burt shot back. "Art and athletics have a similar purpose. But given the rash of gay kids committing suicide-"

"You can't run the world for one small minority of kids," Sue said.

"How can you even say that?" Burt shot back. "You're advocating increasing special education programs, which is great, but deals with a small minority of kids. You've seen what the gay kids- yes, what my own kid- went through at public school. You have a lesbian as your head cheerleader-"

"No I don't," Sue said.

"Yeah, you do, and the fact that you support her like that is great. But kids should be able to-"

"My head Cheerio is not a lesbian," Sue repeated. "That's slander and I won't stand for it."

Burt was going to snap back when he caught sight of Kurt standing in the wings, shaking his head furiously. He looked again at Sue's face and saw honest, unfeigned confusion there.

Oh. Oh _shit._

***

"I can't believe it!" Kurt stormed as soon as the cameras went off. "How could you do that?"

"You didn't tell me she wasn't out!" Burt protested.

"Why should that matter?" Kurt shouted back. Everyone in the news station was staring at them right now, from Sue on down to the camera man's assistants. "You shouldn't have even been _talking_ about it!"

"You did! You and Finn are the ones who told me!"

"Not on television!" Kurt's eyes were blazing with fury in a way that Burt hadn't seen in a long, long time. "It should have been- Didn't you ever even _wonder_ -" he cut off, turning on his heel in frustration and anger. "You should have known better!"

It was embarrassing to have Kurt yelling at him like this with everyone watching. Burt could hear someone snickering. "We'll discuss this at home," he said stiffly.

Kurt shook his head. "No. I'm not going home with you."

"Like hell you aren't. Let's go."

"No!" Kurt pulled away when Burt reached out to grip his arm. "I'm going to Blaine's." He whipped out his phone and started dialing. "I don't want to be anywhere near you right now."

Burt grit his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to grab Kurt by the scruff of his neck and drag him home, but with all these eyes and tongues he didn't think he had a choice. "Fine," he said. "Be home in the morning."

Kurt ignored him and flounced off.

***

"Of course he'll be home in the morning," Carole soothed Burt as she drove them home. "He didn't take anything with him. He'll have to come back for his clothes. He's Kurt."

Burt grunted in response, slumping down in the passenger seat. The uncomfortable feeling of knowing that this was going to blow up big was twisting deep in his gut, and he looked in the only other direction he could blame. "You didn't tell me she wasn't out," he said to Finn.

Finn sat up straighter in the back seat. "We didn't know you were planning on saying something about it on TV."

"I wasn't _planning_ on it," Burt said. "It just… came up." He was feeling sick.

"You know," Finn said, trying to sound casual, "you never said her name. Maybe no one will know."

"They'll know," Burt said.

"Yeah, but it's not like the whole state is going to care," Finn said.

"But all of your school will." Burt thought about those awful days before… before what? Because there _wasn't_ a before or after. All that shit that happened to Kurt was still going on- he just had friends to help him face it now. Hell, just a few days ago Burt had been scrubbing graffiti off his garage and there had been an editorial in the paper.

He rested his forehead on his knuckles. "Shit."

***

Burt stared at the phone, and the phone didn't move. "What if she didn't see it?" he asked Carole. "What if no one ever latches into it and it all just blows over? Is telling her what happened going to make a problem when there wasn't one?"

Carole pressed the button on the answering machine. It beeped.

"Mr. Hummel? I want you to know that you have lost my support. I expected better from you." _Beep_.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm Joan Tracey, president of the Westerville PFLAG chapter. We're withdrawing our support." _Beep_.

"Don't know where you get off telling anyone anything, having a fucking unnatural fag for a son-" _Beep_.

"Turn 'em off," Burt said. "I get the point." He sighed and picked up the phone, and then flipped through the phonebook for the Lopez's number. He dialed it, his mouth dry.

Someone picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" a man said brusquely.

"Hi, this is Burt Hummel. May I speak to Santana Lopez?"

If it had been Burt and some guy had outed Kurt before he was ready, Burt would have given him an earful. He knew it. But the man didn't say a word- he just hung up the phone. The click resounded in his ear. He pulled the phone away and stared at for a long moment, and then cradled it gently.

"No answer?" Carole asked.

"Didn't want to talk to me. Can't say I blame him." A lot of chilling pictures were starting to form in Burt's head. "You know," he began slowly, "Kurt's been out to me for two years now. It's hard to remember sometimes that he stayed quiet because he was _afraid_ of me."

Carole didn't say anything. She just leaned her chin on her hand and watched him inquisitively.

"It just seems unreal to me," Burt went on. "That he could be so afraid. I mean, I always knew that no matter what, I'd come around to it. Maybe we'd have some rough times with it, but he'd always have a home here and he'd always be safe and he'd always be _loved_. I'd never turn away my own son, even at the beginning, when I didn't get all this gay stuff. I'd never turn him away. I never understood how any parent could."

"I know," Carole said.

"But now I just keep thinking about this guy, and what he might be doing to her-"

"Hold up," Carole ordered firmly. "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't." Burt took off his cap and rubbed his hand across his head. "I just don't know what to do to even begin making this right." He put his cap back on. "I am gonna figure it out, though. Somehow."

"I know you will," Carole said, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him.

***

Kurt didn't come home in the morning. Instead, he called Finn and asked Finn to bring a change of clothes with him to school. Burt knew because he heard Finn on his phone upstairs, arguing with Kurt about which white shirt Kurt meant and which pair of pants, and _dude, they all looked the same to him_ and couldn't Kurt just wear a t-shirt and jeans for one day? A part of him wanted to run upstairs and wrest the phone from Finn's hand and tell Kurt to come home and help him work this out, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not just for image or voters, but for his sons. Burt Hummel wasn't a man who made his kids clean up the mess he'd made.

And he had made a mess. "It's all over Facebook," Finn informed them when he finally came downstairs, a heavy duffle over his shoulder. "You should see some of the stuff they're saying." He thought about it. "Then again, maybe you don't want to know."

"Probably not," Carole said, giving her son a firm look. "Tell Kurt he needs to come home for dinner tonight."

"I can tell him," Finn said, "but I can't promise he'll listen." Finn grabbed an apple. "I've got to hurry. I've got to see Ms. Halper before school."

"I'll give you a ride," Burt suggested, standing up and grabbing his keys. "Let's go."

Finn wasn't very talkative on the way to school. Burt decided to start here. "I'm sorry about all this," he said.

Finn shrugged. "Hey, these things happen, right?" he said lamely.

"You sound worried."

"A little." Finn sighed. "She's going to figure out Kurt or I told you, and she's going to kill us both."

"Sorry." Burt cringed.

Finn was looking out the window. "I shouldn't be too worried, you know? I'm not the one who has to go through it, I guess. It's just… it's not like Kurt. You never would really know it to look at Santana." He snorted. " _I_ sure didn't know it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Don't tell Mom this, okay?" Finn asked anxiously. Burt nodded. "Santana was the first one that I… you know…" he squirmed uncomfortably. "Slept with."

"Oh." Burt blinked. "Wow."

"I know." They were pulling into the school. Finn peered at the kids who were walking in. "I don't see a lot of Slushees. That's got to be a good sign, right?"

"You tell me. You see her at all?"

Finn turned back in surprise. "You're really going to try to talk to her?"

"I owe her one hell of an apology, don't you think?" Finn nodded. "So tell me if you see her."

"There. Right over there."

"Okay, then." Burt turned the car off, put it in park, took a deep breath and got out. "Santana!" he called.

Santana was walking with a few other girls, one of whom Burt remembered was Brittany. She turned at her name, and when she saw his face, Burt understood exactly why Finn had looked the way he had when he'd picked him up the other day. He braced himself, walking forward. Santana's hands were on her hips, and her shoulders were squared. "What do you want?" she demanded.

Burt took the bull right by the horns. "I came here to say that I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea that you weren't out to your coach-"

"What, so it would have been all right for you to say that on television if I was?" Santana demanded.

"No." The guilt crept up on him even more. "I'm just saying I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I wasn't thinking-"

"Something I suspect happens all too often," Santana shot back. "No wonder Finn here worships your ass. He can't use his tiny little brain either."

"Look, I just wanted to say I'm truly sorry. I spoke without thinking, and I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant to hurt me?" Santana said, walking closer. "And that's supposed to make everything all better? Do you have any idea what it was like at my house last night? My parents completely freaked out, okay? You being _sorry_ and _not meaning to hurt me_ doesn't change any of that,"

Burt nodded. "I'm planning on making a public apology-"

"Don't. You. Dare."

"What?" Burt drew back.

"You say my name on that television, and I swear to God I will hunt you down and I will hurt you. You have done enough!" Her face was twisted with anger and she spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't ever, _ever_ want to talk to you again and if you are really sorry, you'll drop out of the election and run like the fucking coward that you are. You got that, Mr. Hummel?"

"Santana." Brittany put a hand on her shoulder, but Santana shrugged her off violently. "Come on. The bell's going to ring." She looked at Burt with a little bit of sympathy, but Burt suspected that was only because Brittany had seen what Santana was capable of.

He wanted to stop her. He wanted to get down on his knees and beg for Santana's forgiveness. He _should_ , really. But Santana spit at him- right in his face- and stalked away, leaving Burt standing with Finn.

"I don't think she wanted to hear it," Finn said.

"Yeah," Burt said. "I got that impression."

***

When he got to work, there were picketers outside the shop.

 _Where were you when Kurt was coming out_? he wanted to ask. _Where were you when that Karofsky kid had him scared for his life?_ But he kept his mouth shut, because they weren't the same issue, and he knew it.

"What are you going to do?" Carole asked when she called him at lunch.

"I wrote a letter and mailed it," Burt said. "She might just tear it up, but at least it's there. At least there's an apology."

"Yeah. And publicly?"

"I'm going to have to do something. There were twenty-nine messages when I came in, not to mention a bunch of protesters and some customers who said something."

Carole cleared her throat. "You said… she wants you to drop out."

"Yeah. I thought about that."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed."

"I would be. If you won this, Burt, you wouldn't be the first politician to make a mistake. And that's what it was, a _mistake_." Carole's faith in him flowed over the phone. "People are free to not vote for you, but you shouldn't have to run away."

He realized with a start he'd been considering it. It would be easy to run away and say that he was doing it because that was what Santana wanted. And didn't Santana deserve something from him? Something more than just an apology?

"Burt?"

"I'm here."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I've got to go, Carole. Someone's coming into the shop."

"Okay. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too."

He hung up, staring at the empty space where no customer stood. Then he sighed and retreated to his office to eat lunch.

His employees had been largely unaffected by the whole thing. Cassius had said that Burt hadn't even named the girl, so who cared? What he really wanted to know was what Burt was going to do about taxes. Ernie said the whole thing was being made too big a deal, because sooner or later she was going to have to come out. And Bob hadn't even watched the debate, so he had no clue what was going on.

The newspapers were a different story, though. Burt wasn't sure if it was just because it was a story, a slow news day, or because Sue had offended a lot of journalists, but Santana's name appeared in several of the articles. The things that were said in some of the articles were past the point of shocking him, because he'd read so many of them directed at Kurt the past month or so.

But then, that was exactly why he, of all people, should have known better.

***

The phone rang, and Burt snatched it up. "Hummel Tires and Lube."

"I'm staying at Tina's tonight. Just thought you should know."

"Kurt." Burt was torn between relief and a desire to kill his kid. "Finn didn't tell you to be home for dinner?"

"No, he told me. But I'm not coming home."

"Then you can deal with Carole. It's her you're disobeying. And then afterwards, you can deal with me for being disrespectful to your stepmother."

"Whatever," Kurt said, with a huge sigh. "I don't suppose it matters much anyway, as there's not a debate this week and you'll be home more."

"Who says there's not a debate this week?"

There was a waver. Burt could _feel_ it over the phone. "I thought you were dropping out of the election."

"You hear that from me?" Burt said.

"No."

"I told you when this all started, you don't believe anything that you don't hear directly from me or Carole. You got that?"

"Then I guess I didn't believe I needed to be home for dinner, since I heard it from Finn," Kurt snapped back.

"Then you're grounded, mister," Burt said, if nothing else because that was all he could come up with. "And you'd better be home tomorrow."

"We'll see," Kurt said loftily. "You're really not dropping out of the election?"

"You're eighteen. You got that much of a problem with what I did, don't vote for me."

"I can't believe that that's the line you're taking. Really? You don't see anything wrong with what you did?"

"Who said I didn't?" Burt held his temper. "I went and apologized to Santana. She didn't forgive me, but that's her right." Silence on the other end of the phone. "What?" Burt said. "You really think I did this to be an asshole? Because I'm trying to beat Sue at any cost? I thought you knew better, Kurt."

"I thought so, too," Kurt said, but there was less venom and more hesitation there. "You really apologized to her?"

"Watch the news tonight and you'll see." More silence. "Kurt?"

"I'm here."

"Come home tomorrow, okay? Look, I know you're mad at me, buddy, and you've got a right to be, and I'm sorry. But let's work this out."

"We'll see," Kurt said. "I'm going to Tina's."

"You said. I'll see you tomorrow."

Kurt hung up, and Burt realized that he knew exactly what he was going to do- that he'd known it all along.

***

"All right, Mr. Hummel," the director said. "You're on in five… four… three…" he mimed the two and the one, and then pointed to Burt. The lights flared hot and the camera pointed at him, and Burt took a deep breath.

"Good evening. I'm Burt Hummel. Last night, I made a mistake. I know you know what I'm talking about. It was a big one, and I'm here to apologize. What I did was give out personal information that didn't belong to me. I might not have realized that I was doing it at the time, and I didn't mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t matter. That information wasn't mine to share. And I need to say I'm sorry. So, to the person that I hurt, I'm sorry.

"What I did was wrong, and I'm not gonna stand here and make excuses or try to justify it. But I'm also not gonna turn tail and run away. Because the way I see it, I can't take back the harm I did to that person, but I can try to change it. I can go to Washington and help pass the kind of laws that make our schools safe for kids. And not just some kids, but all kids that are being bullied. So that when some thoughtless idiot like myself says a little too much, at least that kid doesn't have to worry about going to school the next day and getting the crap kicked out of them, just for being who they are.

I've never been perfect, and that's not gonna change. But I'm gonna keep fighting this fight, because it's one we've all got to get into. Because I'd rather be on the right side doing it wrong, and learning as I go. So if you're still looking for someone to stand up for you, I'm still your man, and each time I fall down, I'm gonna get back up and do it better. Thanks, and have a good night."

"And that's a wrap."

Burt waited until the lights were off him to start breathing again.

***

When he stepped out of the studio, Kurt was leaning against the car, waiting with his arms crossed. Burt heaved out a long sigh of relief.

"How'd you get here?"

"Tina lives a couple blocks over. I walked," Kurt said with a shrug. When Burt didn't say anything, he added, "I saw your speech."

"Figured."

"It was… it was good."

Something tight and scared inside of Burt began to relax. "Thanks. Don't think it will have much of an impact with Santana, but that's life."

"It is." Kurt lifted his chin. "I wouldn't forgive you if I was her."

"I gathered." Burt nudged him aside and unlocked the door.

"Intentions don't matter when it's your life," Kurt pointed out like Burt hadn't spoken. Then he sighed. "They do, however, matter when it's not."

Burt paused in opening the door. "What are you trying to say?"

"That maybe Santana doesn't have to pay attention to your intentions, but I do. I know it was an accident."

"It was." Burt watched Kurt walk around to the passengers' side. "Although I get why you were angry. I should have known better."

All the tension drained out of Kurt's posture, and all of a sudden he was Burt's son instead of a haughty, angry stranger again. "What are you going to do about Santana?"

"Santana specifically? Live with myself. Regret it. Some things you can't fix once they're out there, no matter how much you want to try. People in general? Exactly what I said- try to get legislation passed to protect kids in schools."

Kurt smiled. "Okay," he said. "You have my vote again."

"Thanks," Burt said, climbing into the car. "Glad to know." But as Kurt slid into the car next to him, he couldn't resist squeezing his shoulder. "Let's go home."

"Am I still grounded?" Kurt asked as Burt started the car.

"Absolutely." Burt grinned. "But we'll start it tomorrow morning. Let's go get ice cream tonight."

"Dad-"

"No arguing. I owe you one tonight."

Kurt muttered something about heart attacks and hips, but Burt could see the smile on his face. And even better, Kurt reached out and touched his hand. Things were going to be okay.

He couldn't help wondering what was happening with Santana tonight. He wished there was a way he could help her directly, talk to her and explain and tell her he'd never meant to do this to her. But he was right when he told Kurt it was a regret he was going to have to live with. He hoped that someday she'd be able to forgive him, but if she didn't… well, he understood that, too. But things were going to be okay for him and maybe, with a little luck on her part and a lot of fighting on his, they'd be okay for her, too.


End file.
